


Of Them All

by welcometothisday



Series: Mirror Mirror... [10]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Other, Reader-Insert, reader can be any gender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometothisday/pseuds/welcometothisday
Summary: Just some snippets/one shots of the reader's life before Aaravos, character interactions, and small things in general:You watched as Aaravos used magic, his runes flaring all over the place. Magic wasn't something you completely understood, but you did know that Claudia's and Viren's runes weren't quite so flashy.What a drama queen. Ah, but he was your drama queen.Besides, seeing those muscles flex was always worth watching.
Relationships: Aaravos (The Dragon Prince)/Reader
Series: Mirror Mirror... [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1408105
Comments: 14
Kudos: 91





	1. Once Upon a Time...

**Author's Note:**

> Under a lot of stress to the point where I broke down crying in classes without knowing why.
> 
> Maybe writing some silly stuff will help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have been a prequel, and better explains the following scene in The One Where Aaravos Curses, and Where Darkness is Your Sanctuary:
> 
> He wanted to be near you for as long as he could. “So, you know some of my crimes.”
> 
> “I know plausible ones. Stories tend to change, and their perspectives are flawed. For instance, I was in a fight once with a soldier. He claimed I attacked him, which is somewhat true as I threw the first punch, but the reason I did it was that, unlike you, ‘no’ didn’t appear to be in his vocabulary.”
> 
> Aaravos was going to kill a man.

There was a loud crack as you slammed your fist into a soldier's nose, effectively breaking it. The guy fell, his nose bloodied and the back of your fist roughened. In all honesty, you weren't exactly built for fighting, so it took a lot of effort not to make any noises to show how much pain you were in.

Wow, the guy was massively thick headed. And here you were hoping his skull would be as hollow as it he made it seem.

He had to grab onto a table to steady himself. As he did so, he glared up at you, as did the rest of his comrades.

...Nope.

You ran for your puny little life, the sounds of your footfalls upon cobblestones not doing you any favors as you were chased by men with very colorful vocabulary. And as for the rest of their vocabulary, the guy you punched apparently didn't know the meaning of a word most toddlers did. What an idiot. Ducking into an alcove, you hid behind a statue, taking on its posture as royal guards ran by you. You waited till they passed by to breathe, warily searching your surroundings before running once again, and as far away as possible.

Well, at least you tried when there was a small whoop from above you. Next thing you knew, you were pinned down by someone in armor.

Shit.

"You are under arrest for attacking the royal guard."

What? But he grabbed you first! Then again, technically you threw the first punch, but it was self-defense. Honest! Standing up, you saw a teenager, maybe an extremely young adult? He had combed over blondish-gray hair, and smug eyebrows that showed just how proud he was of what he did. After all, if someone with authority got into trouble, it was obviously the person who had little to no ranking at fault.

Why did you always have such crappy luck?

* * *

For some reason, the general of the Standing Battalion wanted to interrogate you. You had heard about the woman. You heard she was so crass that it was safer for her attendant to speak for her, that she waved her hands a lot to distract her enemies, and that she earned a scar from fighting a monster of epic proportions. Then again, you heard that while playing Two Truths and One Lie, so at least one of those rumors were fake.

Seeing her though? You almost blushed from how attractive she was. And her attendant nearly did the same for you. Somehow though, he also reminded you of a puppy, an adorable little puppy. The general though? She just oozed charisma and an aura that said for people not to mess with her. Narrowing her eyes at you, you watched as her hands moved rapidly in very coordinated positions. Her attendant cleared his throat.

"Why did you attack one of my men?"

You punched a soldier of the Standing Battalion, and you were still alive? How in the-?! "I told him not to touch me multiple times over, explicitly saying 'no'. He continued the inappropriate behavior, and I defended myself."

You thought you would be questioned more, accused of something, but instead the general made more of those hand motions to the man, and he nodded. "We will be investigating. For now, would you like something to eat?"

Reluctantly, you had accepted, surprised to get a full meal, and jelly tarts. You were also surprised later on that some weird, yellow toad-like creature appeared from a crack in the wall later that night, seeking out the dessert. You decided to share it, panicking a little when a little boy also came out of part of the wall. He started at you from beyond the bars. Please don't say he was magical. You weren't a fan of magic.

"Hi."

"Hello?" you replied, looking around. Why was there a little boy in prison? "Er, you shouldn't talk to strangers."

He didn't even reach your shoulder height. The kid gestured to your plate with a few extra jelly tarts. "Can I have some?"

"...You know you're not supposed to take food from strangers, right?"

He asked your name and after you answered, he grinned, "I'm Ezran, and now we're not strangers anymore." Did this kid have a death wish? "Besides, I saw when the guards brought you the food. I know it's safe."

Narrowing your eyes, you let him and his companion take some. "You know any good stories? I don't get to go outside all that often."

Well, your family was full of story tellers. Collecting yourself, you told him a tale about two dragons that fell in love against impossible odds. He liked it.

Hold on, did this kid say his name was Ezran, as in heir to the throne?

You really, really hoped you weren't going to get in trouble for this.

* * *

The guard who accused you, and his friends, were known troublemakers that were supposed to be excommunicated from the Standing Battalion. Many called them to be some of the best, if not _the_ best when it came to catching criminals. Problem was, they had also been caught abusing their power. The group was just discharged sooner than expected. There had been witnesses that saw what happened, and were willing to speak on your behalf, including the bartender. It was odd, thinking that someone could care.

You expected to be kicked out onto the streets. However, Ezran spoke on your behalf, talking about how nice you were, including how concerned you'd been for him. He wanted you to have a job in the castle since you didn't have a home or a job. He also wanted you

Next thing you knew, you were part of the cleaning staff. You didn't know if it was a welcome change until Prince Callum asked to sketch you. You never thought of yourself as art worthy, but you didn't mind.

* * *

One night, there was a man who looked half dead walking. You startled when he literally walked into the stone wall. When he tried to go past it, he hit a door instead. Acting swiftly, you carefully directed him into the room he was aiming for. It was a bedroom with a large bed, a fireplace, and an old mirror in the corner. It was largely covered by cloth, except for the upper corner peeking out.

[Damned rich people](http://66.media.tumblr.com/064cd5541066c6a123f417e70522f736/tumblr_oqfmvsOGsx1vgmtvao1_250.gifv).

Strangely, the man didn’t smell like he drank any alcohol. Instead, he smelled of herbs and chemicals. Wrinkling your nose, you reached for the nightstand by the bed where there was a glass of water. He didn’t seem physically active like a knight might, but he still obviously exhausted. He was most likely a nobleman of some kind.

You carefully pat his shoulder, yelping when a blast of something knocked the fabric covering the mirror out of place. The cloth floated down, and you saw your bewildered expression in the reflection. Wheezing, you looked back down to the man, placing two fingers on your pulse point before moving back as quickly as possible.

Magic. He had used magic. There was something in his hand, a rune of some kind. Something dark had erupted from it, and you dreaded what might’ve happened if you hadn’t been fast enough to dodge it.

He began muttering something about the king, snuggling a hug into one of the large pillows with an affectionate, almost loving smile. Swallowing nervously, you wondered if it really was a good idea to wake someone from a pleasant dream, especially when they were so happy about said dream. You tapped his shoulder softly, “Um, sir? Are you okay?”

He immediately sat up, eyes wide. He searched the room, finally resting his gaze on you. You had your hands up in the air as a white flag to show you meant no harm.

“Er, hi. Do you sleepwalk? Because you uh, you were walking in the halls, and walking into walls and doors.”

The stranger blinked once, then twice, and flung himself into his pillow. What the heck was going on? “Who are you?”

“I’m a servant, one of the cleaning staff.” You gave your nickname, not wholly comfortable with giving him your real name. If he was magical, no matter what level, giving your true name wasn’t an appealing idea. Names were power, and you were tired of people trying to use power against you. “Um, there’s a pitcher of water here. Do you-?”

He held up his hand, and you poured it. This guy, wasn’t entirely all there, was he? There was a stranger in his room, he was a magic practitioner which usually involved some secrecy, and he acted like nothing was wrong when you could’ve poisoned him, easily. Was he of a high rank?

Wait, was he the mage for the castle? Oh shit.

What would his title be? Was ‘sir’ even appropriate?

“Um, is there someone I should get for you?”

Please, so you wouldn’t have to deal with this. It was painfully awkward. Instead of giving an answer, he passed out, snoring as soon as he hit the pillow and mumbling out nonsense. Tense, you turned him onto his side just in case. He needed clear airways since you had no idea what he did or had. You needed to get someone. You felt uncomfortable leaving him like this. Another servant might know him and be able to help.

Grabbing a blanket from the clothing stores in his room, you covered him with a blanket, trying not to snort at how he was clinging to his pillow. Wow, this guy was competition in the adorable puppy department.

You dusted yourself off, frowning at your figure within the uniform. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you had to work with it, and could adapt. Furrowing your brows, you found that a part of the uniform had come loose, and in an area that it was hard to see without a…

There was a mirror in the corner of the room. But this was a mage’s room from what little you knew. For all you knew, that thing could be cursed or something. He had to have covered it up for some reason.

Magic was a dangerous thing to mess with. So, even if it turned out to be an ordinary mirror, you weren’t going to take any chances. Sighing, you glanced back at the mirror once as you left the room, feeling as though it were watching you.

You hoped that it wasn’t your paranoia getting the best of you. And you decided to tell yourself that you were imagining things when you noticed that the image cast didn’t show the markings on your uniform in a manner that should’ve been backwards.

Firelight flared off it, and you walked away, getting someone who knew what they were doing to help.

The weird man had been the castle mage, and you were thankful you found his son and daughter, the latter who was just as, if not more, exhausted. You were barely able to stop her from walking into walls and furnishings as her father had. Grateful, she mumbled something about the two of you needing to get "hot brown morning potion". It also turned out, his son was the head of the guard. It was the same person who had caught you. Just your luck.

You hadn't been expecting it when he asked, “Are you okay?”

Wincing, you said honestly, “Not a fan of magic. I’m, I’m not against it. I just have some bad experiences.”

“Me too, but without the bad experiences part,” he replied brightly. He held out his hand, “Hey, I’m sorry for us meeting the way we did. I wasn’t very nice to you.”

You shrugged, shaking his hand. He had a tight, muscular, grip. “You thought I attacked one of your own. I’d be pretty mad too.”

No, you didn’t fault him for what happened. “I’m still sorry.” He was frowning before he brightened, “Can we be friends?”

You didn’t see a problem with that and agreed that you would try.

* * *

The next time you saw Viren, he had been in the throne room, and literally ran into you, as did Soren. You squeaked, the sharpness of Soren’s armor piercing a part of your flesh.

Yep, your luck was trying to kill you.

Both leapt up, Soren helping you stand as he exclaimed your name…Right in front of his mage of a father. Whelp, the guy had to learn it sooner or later. Soren was blushing, “Are you okay?”

“A little banged up, but nothing I can’t handle,” you assured him. “And you two?”

Viren blushed an even darker shade than his son. Unlike his son, who appeared to blush from exuberance, he was flushed from embarrassment. He answered stiffly, “I’m, I’m fine.”

In his hand was a staff. You tried not to react to it. When neither you or Viren said anything, Soren piped up, “Oh, Dad! This is the person that helped you? You know, the other night when you passed out and-“

“Thank you, Soren,” Viren grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes. You could practically hear him mentally counting. This man had little to no patience, did he? “And, thank you, for helping that night.”

“It’s no problem. I was just concerned about how to handle the situation. I mean, I don’t know how magic works, including if something happened to affect you and I tried not to interact with anything in your room.”

He nodded, something drifting underneath the surface of his eyes. It was as if he was searching for something. “Yes, I was meaning to ask you, did you touch the mirror or its cover?”

You shook your head, reluctantly taking out the part of your uniform he had burned. It explained how if came loose. You were just glad it wasn’t you instead. “No, I tried to stay away from it. You though, I think I need to be extra careful when you’re half asleep. You had writing on the palm of your hand?”

You also tugged a small bit of your hair that was shorter than the rest of it, trying to explain a tad more subtly what happened. You didn’t know if he would get fired for being unaware. He paled, dread in his expression. “I’m sorry.”

“As long as no one got hurt, I have no problem, okay?” you tried to soothe. This guy was consistently on edge whenever you saw him. Maybe it was just because you had been in his room. Unfortunately, you worried if you hadn’t done that then either he could’ve gotten hurt, or he could’ve exploded the castle. You wondered if you should tell him what you saw. For all you knew, it was just a flare from the fireplace being reflected. “I hope I don’t come off as rude, but from what I understand, this might be a common occurance with you. First off, I’d recommend taking care of yourself more, and second, I need to know what to do next time if this happens again.”

He frowned, “From what I remember and have heard from others, you went above and beyond what may have been expected.”

That was a pretty low bar of expectations if they thought making sure someone didn’t die by checking up on them. “While I know you didn’t touch anything with magical essence, I would advise that you not take a blanket from the storage room. There are some delicate items in there.”

You felt the blood drain from your face, earning his alarmed expression as he asked your name. “I don’t need to know what’s in there, but please tell me it’s not explosive or poisonous. Wait, could I have killed you?!”

Your heart was pounding quickly, hard to steady. Viren placed a hand on your shoulder, “Easy, it’s not as bad as that, but some of my projects may need that in the future.” He paused, “You don’t like magic, do you?”

Soren didn’t tell him? “I have nothing against other people using magic, I just…I don’t think I’d ever be comfortable with it.” Hesitant, you murmured, “My parents were travelers, and in one village we visited there was commotion about a ghost haunting the area. There was a student mage who didn’t know what he was doing or what he should do, and uh, some people got caught in the crossfire, including my parents.” You smiled sadly, “So I’m always wary around the stuff.”

“…Can you work for me?”

“Huh?”

Viren smiled. “There are people cautious around magic, but at some point, curiosity gets to them and there have been…’accidents’, where someone tried to do something without the proper knowledge or my permission.” He paused, “I know it’s a bit much to ask, considering your past-“ Oh he had no idea how bad it really was. “-But you did take care of me, and you were careful and considerate enough to consider possible consequences. You understand what it can do.”

Yes, you did. “So, you just want somebody to clean up the area without them doing something stupid and dangerous?”

He nodded. You thought for a moment. “And I won’t have to interact with any of the magical stuff at all? I won’t have to clean up potions, or deal with stuff that have curses, or anything else that I’m terrified of?”

Viren hesitated, “While I would actively try to avoid it and specifically do it at a time where no one inexperienced was in the room, I won’t deny there may be emergencies where I would need help. For example, if I accidentally set myself on fire.”

You pursed your lips at his dark sense of humor. Considering your options, you knew with this that you wouldn’t have to interact with nobility or soldiers as often. In some weird ways, doing what Viren proposed might be safer.

“If it helps, I’ve been thinking about moving my lab elsewhere. The place where it originally was is being renovated. After that’s done, there won’t be any magical items in my room.

Woohoo! “Okay, just tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

Soren looked a little disappointed until he exclaimed that meant they’d be spending more time together. Viren snorted, rolling his eyes as he led you away to discuss terms and duties. It turned out to be fairly simple in retrospect. It shouldn’t have surprised you, but the transfer also meant getting a pay raise.

Few staff were ever allowed into Viren’s quarters, less than ten. Now? Now you were one of them. Thankfully, whenever someone needed to go into Viren’s room, no one was to be alone, always having at least one other person with them as a precaution.

At least your coworkers were nice, even if one of them was more uh, touchy than the others.

...

..

.

Working as a servant in the castle of Katolis, life was certainly entertaining.

With one mischievous prince constantly stealing tarts and another going everywhere he could to draw, even in some of the more precarious areas that made King Harrow worry. There was also Claudia, ever the prankster, and her brother Soren, who always tried to be the absolute best, for better or worse. Their father was a complicated man. For one, he dabbled in magic, the kind that required sacrifices of a darker nature, such as killing the things he needed for his potions and spells. Some of these were good for the kingdom, such as one terrible winter, but others made the people fearful.

Yet all was relatively calm in a servant’s life in Katolis, for King Harrow ruled well, and ruled generously, kind to even the most ragged of souls. You were one of those souls, a child of travelers. Your hands were scratched and your arms a little scarred. It mattered not though, for you could still clean, dust the walls and small decorations in a room, and best of all? Warm yourself by a gentle, kind fire that sifted through the cold of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an idea I somewhat shelved, deciding to keep things vague enough for readers to decide on their own how they became part of the staff.
> 
> Please read the first part of this series, since this can still be considered a prequel if you want.


	2. Breaking the Wall - A What If Scenario

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just finished watching season 3.
> 
> The reader has a few choice words to give to Aaravos pending the scenario that they're in.
> 
> SPOILERS ahead for those who haven't seen it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would follow the Happier Ending, and the way I left that was if the reader was alive, they were in an undisclosed location. This could be another realm, somewhere outside Katolis, etcetera.
> 
> I also made it so it could happen either during, or after the events in the Dragon Prince.
> 
> Point is, Aaravos, and pretty much no one else could access it.

You didn't know a lot about magic, but you _did_ know you weren't a fan of dark magic. Lately, in the home you and Aaravos shared, you began to notice strange things, more than usual. For instance, Aaravos was either floating around or lying on the couch, talking to someone you couldn't see. 

"Has our relationship truly escalated to this new height?" Um, was there something Aaravos needed to tell you? "Am I, your little bug pal?"

Huh? What was he doing? Would you even understand? You waited until he was done speaking before knocking on the door. He looked conflicted, opening his mouth to say something. You interrupted him instead, bringing over the tray with tea and food as you sat beside him. "Everything okay? I tried not to listen too much, but seeing you floating isn't exactly something that's easy to ignore."

"You aren't going to ask?" he murmured.

Whatever was happening was bothering him.

_**Firelight edged in your memories, as did the mysterious mirror. You doubted that it was a lucky coincidence, but it was enough for Viren to apologize for what had happened. He watched you though as if searching for something suspicious. Unsure what he could be looking for, you didn’t comment on his behavior. The only time you did talk with him, was when you felt some kind of pull and urge that didn’t feel right.** _

_**Afterward, you saw the crushed butterfly in his hand.** _

_**Holding yourself, you decided to stay away from the man and his room as much as possible.** _

Furrowing your eyebrows, you gently took him by the chin, turning his face so you could peck his lips. He closed his eyes for a moment, practically melting before you pulled away. You wouldn't deny being angry or jealous. However...

 _**The elf grinned, “** _ **You are wiser than most, not to trust me, yet.”**

_**You grimaced, “I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or attempting to flatter me, gives a contrary point to what you just said. And now I worry for those who trusted you too soon.”** _

"I trust you. I want to know but, I know you'd tell me if you wanted to. I, I hope you will tell me when you need to, but..." You hadn't told him about what was wrong with your health the first time you met, or even the months after. He placed his trust in you, and you failed him. Meanwhile, he had earned your trust, and hadn't harmed you yet. "You've always kept your word. And if I recall correctly, you said you'd never harm me, and that you never lie. You haven't given me a reason not to, yet."

_**He touched the mirror, and your hand automatically reached back, “I won’t harm you, and, you should know that I never lie. I can’t.”** _

Your hand had been in his lap, and he squeezed your fingers. You hadn't expected him to say anything, but he did. "I was speaking to Lord, now King, Viren." Since when did Viren become king? And what happened to Harrow? Or Ezran? How much have you missed? You had let go of those more of your old life because you were content with this new life. You knew those who met you would move on. But, that didn't mean you had stopped caring. Your expression must've shown your surprise. "I am not courting him."

That always had been something you'd been curious about, at least a little. What was their relationship? "It's not that I'm worried about. Viren, he's not exactly a good person. He's manipulative, and doesn't really cherish life, including that of his kids. I know you're basically all powerful, but I'm wary of that man."

_**“Glad I keep you on your toes, oh great all-knowing one.”** _

_**“If I was all-knowing, then I wouldn’t be so thrown off by you,” he commented, your chat flowing more naturally, as it had before. “I feel as though you have an advantage over me.”** _

There was amusement in his eyes when you had mentioned Viren being manipulative. SO, Aaravos was messing with the mage? Knowing Aaravos though, the elf was probably two steps ahead.

_**Walking along, you mapped out the constellations above your head, planning to show him a chart of them later. You could tell him the stories you knew of them, and maybe say they're on him too. “I still don’t know your name. Don’t know your past. Not to mention that for all I know, you might have a plot that somehow involves conquering my people.”** _

"You were the one who cleaned his quarters," Aaravos pointed out.

You smirked, "I'm also the one who had to fold some of his clothing. Some of it I did not want to see."

Aaravos grinned back, his hold on you still tight, but more relaxed. He frowned once more, this time pulling away. "The previous king, was assassinated by Moonshadow elves."

You flinched, grimacing. Moonshadow elves. "I...He was a good man. A kind one. But, for a long time he'd also been an angry one."

"Oh?"

You tilted your head, "You, Viren hasn't told you?"

"I want to hear what you know."

Snorting, you rolled your eyes. "As you know, not all stories are true. I mean, according to many you're supposed to drink blood."

_**“You’re a person, not an object, regardless of what form you take, ” you said. “Saying otherwise would be akin to calling a dragon an animal, or a geode merely a rock. There’s more to you than a pretty exterior.”** _

_**He smirked, “** _ **You think I’m ‘pretty’?** _**”** _

_**“You look like stars and have contrasting colors that are meant to catch be eye-catching. Of course, you’re pretty," you elaborated, logically, of course.** _

He grinned more, although teasingly as he bent over, kissing the hollow of your neck and chuckling at the flush of your skin. Bastard. "Please?"

Sighing, you began the tale, letting him all that you knew. "It's not the same coming from someone who was there. You might want to get his version of events, however skewed they might be."

Aaravos nodded, tugging you into his lap. His chin rested atop your head before burrowing into your hair. You leaned back into him, having learned to receive comfort in his touch. "Do you, do you have any idea what happened to Prince Ezran? He was supposed to take the throne after his father. But, I'm worried since he was just a kid."

_**His eyes lingered at the bloodstains marking the bandages as well.** _

_**Setting down your hand so it was away from his view, you said, “I’m a servant. This is one of the hazards of my job. I’ve had worse.”** _

_**You'd gotten it in the kitchen, having tripped over Bait. When you reached for something to grip on instinctual, you burned your hands on one of the hot pans. Prince Ezran had apologized so much, that you gave him a plate of tarts in the attempt to stop his guilt, even snacking them with him. It really had been an accident, and no one was really to blame.** _

How long had you been in your new home? How much time had passed by? Had you really been all that selfish? Finding happiness here with your dearest? Aaravos was silent for a moment, gathering his words. He often did this, though more with explaining magic than anything else. "He abdicated to Viren to protect Katolis. Viren wishes to wage war on Xadia."

"What?" you yelped, turning to face Aaravos. He flinched, having expected some reaction, but possibly not that extreme of one. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you said, "Wait, why wouldn't I expect that? He's the one who insisted on invading Xadia to kill a golem minding its own business, and convinced one of the most decent people I knew into killing the Dragon King." Collecting yourself, you added, "I know he's not a good person, but I didn't think he'd be bad, or at least foolish enough to invade Xadia. He says he does everything to protect people, so why-?"

Why would he do this? Why risk so many lives? Why risk lives he was supposedly trying to protect?

You knew he wasn't purely good, no one was, but you had hoped Viren wasn't that corrupt. Were you naive for thinking so?

"He wishes for a better future for your kind, for humans," Aaravos explained, rubbing your shoulders. He looked worried, checking over you. Despite how much he helped you, his concern made you feel guilty. He told you repeatedly he never wanted to see you hurt again. He raised his hand to your cheek, and you cupped him there, searching his gaze. "The prince is safe, and Katolis may have a brighter future ahead of them."

_**Then, his expression changed, “Thank you, for trusting me.”** _

_**“Nah, I think the blood loss is getting to me,” you deadpanned. “Causes one to make horrible decisions. So, please don’t make me wake up and regret having done what I have?”** _

"...There's more that you're not telling me, is there?" He was tentative, and you shook your head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

His lips brushed your forehead. You wondered again since when you both had become so affectionate. It came so easily sometimes. Maybe it was because you both needed someone to listen to, to speak to, just ordinary things that were hard to come by.

_**“You haven’t talked to people in a while, have you?”** _

_**How does one make a possible century or older elf, uncomfortable? Easy, by pointing out obvious insecurities. Great job, why don’t you just stab him already? Maybe then he’d feel better around you. His stance shifted. “No, I haven’t.”** _

_**“Sorry then, unlike yours, my voice isn’t the nicest to hear. I’ll have to take your little friend here to a music performance some time if you’d like?” you offered. “Haven’t been to one myself for a while. Sometimes I tend to forget the little things too. Really shouldn’t, I know.”** _

_**“…You would do that?”** _

_**You shrugged, “Why not? It’s terrible being trapped, so why not be free in the ways that we can? I’m fairly sure that you’re finding your own ways of being free, whatever it is you’re doing, but in the meantime, might as well show you what there is to see when you get out, right? Wherever you are that is? Magic is kind of confusing.”** _

"The Dragon Prince lives, and is being returned to Xadia."

You were so stunned into silence, that you stared at Aaravos. "Okay, I need a refresher on what's happened." So, he gave you a basic summary of what he knew. There were clearly details missing, but you wanted to trust him, not to push him. At least you knew that everything he said was truth, even if he was hiding something. Scrunching up your nose, you leaned against him, "Just, be careful? I know you can handle yourself, but, I don't like seeing you getting hurt either."

He nuzzled into you, "Thank you, beloved."

* * *

There were times you saw him, either lying back on the couch, or even when he conjured up a horse made from light. He grinned when you caught him riding the last part. Groaning, you told him that it was not how you ride something. How did he not know how to ride a horse? Was he doing this on purpose? Just to mess with you? He made an innuendo or two involving "riding", before you lectured him on how to do it properly.

Raising a brow, he said, "How about you show me?" You threw a pillow in his face. Here was someone that was basically a god, and you were throwing pillows at him. Well, he was your goofball, so you could get away with a few things. He laughed, conjuring the horse once more, "I mean it. Show me how to ride this beast."

He was still up to something, you were sure of it. You approached the horse as if it were the real thing, even petting it with care. Aaravos' eyes softened as he stood next to you, observing the small things you did.

_**“Would you like me to teach you?”** _

_**You smiled, “I don’t know how, considering you can’t hold my hand.” There was a slight tingle in your limbs, and you inhaled sharply. “Uh, what’s going on?" You heard his breath in your ear as there was a sensation of someone taking you by the hand. You swallowed, nervous, confused. “You, you’re not controlling me, are you?”** _

_**“You, never,” he said as if he were speaking an oath. “I promise.”** _

_**For some reason, a great deal of the anxiety within you faded. “I-“** _

_**“Please, trust me? Just this once,” he said, almost sounding like he was pleading.** _

_**Who knew someone as powerful as him could sound like that? You shook your head, “I already trust you, just a little nervous. I’ve never done this before. Sorry. Uh, give me a moment to get used to it?”** _

_**That earned you a chuckle. “What was it you once said? The number of jokes one could make from that?”** _

_**He had remembered one of your previous conversations, one of the small ones. You giggled once more, “Jerk.”** _

_**“Dumbass,” he replied teasingly, the soothing tone dulling the harshness of the word. Damn, it was weird to hear someone as regal and elegant as him to say the word, but somehow it was natural considering how you'd been interacting. “May I?”** _

_**“Take the lead, fair sir,” you said, laughing, feeling a slight tug on your arms.** _

Atop the horse, you arched a brow. "So, can I ride this around the room? Hopefully without damaging anything?"

Aaravos stepped out of the way, watching as you giggled, racing to your heart's desire. Breathless, he helped you dismount. "You ride well."

Don't make a comment. Don't make a comment. He didn't mean it like that, so don't make the comment. "My parents were travelers, remember? They taught me how to treat these 'beasts'."

You emphasized the words he used to describe the steed, of which he had some decency to look a little awkward about. "So, can I ask about Lord Viren? What's going on?"

"You don't approve of the war on Xadia, do you?"

_**He scowled, “Why not ask the elves for aid?”** _

_**“I asked the same thing when I was a child, and I was told that because of the border between Xadia and the five kingdoms, for fear of causing further bloodshed, they didn’t dare. That they were lucky their ancestor hadn’t started a war by his foolishness. And, the elf who had cast it was dead, and those related to him would likely never remove the curse, even if they could meet without causing a war.”** _

"I don't understand why you would want to help with that kind of thing," you admitted. "It, has something to do with your past, doesn't it? Are you seeking vengeance?"

He opened his mouth, looking prepared to tell you he didn't, but frowned, thinking to himself. "That is not my primary goal, no." You hadn't asked if it was his primary goal. You asked if he seeked vengeance, which he was avoiding mentioning. He tucked a strand of hair behind one of your rounded ears. "We are trapped here, and there is much I wish, need to do. Please, trust me?"

You nodded, "I hope you know what you're doing, Aaravos. Please, be careful?"

"I will," he assured. His eyes found the worm the two of you had created. He looked pained. "Are you, do you-?"

He was the confident kind of elf, the one who took enjoyment out of many things. He was also your melodramatic goofball, the one that could be a little narcissistic. You loved him anyways, finding some of those traits more endearing than most people might believe. "Yes?"

He inhaled, saying your name. "I am not a good person."

_**“And if I’m the villain in every one of those stories, and they’re true,” he whispered. “What will you do then?”** _

_**You were already the villain in his story then, but you didn't dare say that. You were too selfish and afraid to. You were pathetic. “Pending on whether or not you’re still in here? If you're still here? I’ll keep on flicking the mirror to irritate the crap of you.”** _

"Neither am I," you replied nonchalantly.

"Even sunfire elves may disagree with you on that," he huffed, clearly agitated. "An arrogant people."

"And humans aren't arrogant? Or startouch elves for that matter?"

Aaravos clucked his tongue, "Sunfire elves think themselves others. They have concepts of 'purity', and how to rid the world of perceived deformities. They have a tool that burns dark magic from those who use it, among other things."

Dark magic was always something you were conflicted about. In cases where it was needed, such as a harsh Winter, it was seen as necessary. But you also knew the cost of it, and how it could control people's actions if they became addicted to such power. It had led to so many unnecessary deaths, to so much anger, to so much pain.

_**You didn’t quite understand how magic worked in general, but you did understand from your experience with Viren that there was always a price to pay for something. What if the blood was a price to pay...** _

"Aaravos, I know you practice dark magic sometimes, and you're more experienced with it than I am, but I've seen it cause people to lose their minds. I have never met sunfire elves, so I cannot judge them properly, but I do know that I am nervous around such a practice, even if I try not to be. Perhaps there some underlying reason such a thing began in the first place?"

There was conflict again, but not at the subject. It was more like he was conflicted on what to say to you. He was ready to lecture, likely on how dark magic wasn't wrong, but he also knew of what it had meant to you, and what it may have done to your line. Whether or not the curse was real was irrelevant. It had made all in your family tired, in pain because of the actions of one person. Inhaling, he held your hand, "It was dark magic that led to you, was it not? To your creation?"

_**"...So, he hunted down two elves, a parent and child who were not so different from his own family. He hesitated, but enacted the spell, telling himself that his loved ones were worth any cost."** _

_**Your elven friend was obviously disconcerted, but he appeared thoughtful as he listened.** _

_**“His wife never learned what he did, and he never told his daughter, who was born with gifts not her own. They traveled far, away from the land where the elves lived, unaware that the family, too, had someone willing to do anything to attain their goals, and they yearned for revenge."** _

How could anyone be sure of that? Stories were altered over time. Any of that dark magic stuff could've just been a story created to answer your family's problems, to make them feel less confused. Lies and illusions made everything seem so much easier, so much kinder, than they truly were. "That doesn't mean it's right to use. People should find some light in any situation, but that doesn't mean we excuse the bad parts altogether." Anger filled his features, as did confusion. It was rare to see him like this, and it hurt. "Aaravos, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed." But you did want him to think on his words. "I just don't want you to lose your path. I don't want you to get hurt, even if it's you that's hurting yourself."

_**“Years later, once the girl had grown into a woman and birthed her child, she was sailing with her own beloved, her child with them as she showed them the beauty of the waters, telling them stories every day and night. A storm drowned the parents, and the child barely survived. They learned from their grandfather what he had done. Angry and confused, the child lashed out, understanding too late that they had part of the magic in them that their parent had. Their grandfather died by their hand, and the child was taken in by their relatives."** _

He had turned your wrists over, eyes wandering over your scars. Some were more purposeful than others. Sorrow lay in him. You didn't just see it, but also feel it. He raised your wrists to his lips, tender in his touch. "All will be well, I promise."

_**Your eyes widened and you shook your hands, “Wait! Don’t hurt yourself! Whatever’s going on, it’s not worth harming yourself over!”** _

_**Even if he couldn’t understand your words, your worry seemed to convey something, and it was enough to surprise him as you stepped closer to the mirror, as if you could stop him from cutting himself. Your hand was outstretched, attempting to stop something out of your reach, fear not of him, but for him.** _

_**He met your frantically worried expression with his confused one.** _

_**“Please, don’t hurt yourself.” There was a pause, and his expression had softened, if only a little. This time, he only pricked his finger, showing that the wound healed more easily. You grimaced, making sure your lips were more easily readable. “That doesn’t make it much better. You still feel pain, don’t you?”** _

You would hold him to that.

* * *

One day, you couldn't find him. Panicking, you searched everywhere, breaking out into tears when the bug couldn't even locate him. Then, he appeared, his hand outstretch, and a sadistic smile filling his face. He blinked out of whatever he was doing when he saw you, gasping when you ran at him, embracing him. He called out your name worriedly. "You were gone. I thought you-"

_**For some reason, he seemed furious. “You are not well, and you expect me to-”** _

_**“Hey, I’ve had worse,” you chuckled, not minding in the least. “You want me to tell you a story? Or sing a song? Think of it as a distraction. It’d be nice about now. It’s, ‘serving’ me, if you will. Does that make you feel better?”** _

"I wouldn't leave you," he said, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

He tensed, drawing his hands back almost roughly. Were those burn marks on his palms? "I know, but I thought I lost you and...What is wrong? What happened to your hands?"

His palms were shaking, and he grimaced as he looked between them and you. "It, there was a small hazard. It's not to be afraid of."

You reached for him, but he jumped back, only seeming to realize what he'd done as it happened. He realized what he did. There was shock, horror, fear...

_**He was struggling with something and when you asked him what was wrong, he said, “I have not wanted to touch someone in this prison, as much as I wish for you now. I want to hold your hands because part of me thinks you’re an illusion. I want to hold you so that I can protect you in the ways that I should’ve been able to. I want to embrace you, thank you for the kindness you give me and…”** _

_**“And?” you asked confused, this time not ashamed of your blush.** _

_**You elven friend looked so afraid, pleading your name, "I want so badly to…”** _

_**He clenched his fists, unable to look you in the eye. You placed your hand on the mirror, and his flew to where yours would be if they were in the same world.** _

Drawing your hands away, you couldn't contain your tears, or the pained noise you made.

_**He pressed his hand to the mirror squinting as he inspected your features. You had the mischievous urge to kiss the mirror just to see his reaction but decided not to. You respected people's boundaries too much, even with your polar behavior around this maddening elf. Always either completely cautious, or reckless.** _

He uttered your name, trying to soothe you.

_**“ A simple no would have sufficed,” he said, trying and failing to frown.** _

_**You tensed, “Not everyone heeds ‘no’ so easily.”** _

_**The air grew heavy, and you could’ve sworn the elf bore an expression not just of anger, but something of empathy instead of sympathy. “I do, I would, and I listen.”** _

You ran, understanding from his actions that he was disgusted with you. He didn't want to be near you. You didn't know everything that was going on, but you had pushed him too much. 

_**“One can be alone, while still being in a crowd. I wouldn’t doubt it if you’ve seen your share of violence in your time. There are moments where people don’t act when something terrible happens in front of them. People get hurt, we die, and sometimes, there’s no one there to bury us.”** _

_**That last part you said bitterly.** _

_**“And you?”** _

_**Shivers ran up your spine as you thought about your future and your impending end. You thought of your family. “My family died years ago." Not a lie. "In the end, I was alone in a crowd of people who didn't particularly care. And, I'm just a servant. So, no, I doubt there’s anyone interested in burying me except to rid of the foul stench of a corpse.”** _

This time, he yelled your name, having caught up with you, and holding you from behind. "Please, don't run away."

Aaravos' voice was hoarse. Whispering, you said, "You, you can't even touch me. You don't want to touch me."

_**He pressed his hand to the mirror squinting as he inspected your features. You had the mischievous urge to kiss the mirror just to see his reaction but decided not to. You respected people's boundaries too much, even with your polar behavior around this maddening elf. Always either completely cautious, or reckless. You wanted to live after all, but you also wanted to thrive for as long as you could.** _

"You're right, but it's not because of you." You waited for an answer as to what he meant. He said your name again, "I just killed someone."

"What?" He let you see his hands again, the burn marks more prominent in the moonlight. 

Why hadn't he healed himself? You knew he could. Did he not want to?

And why, how could he kill someone? But, he did bring you here, as far as you knew he revived you? Wait, he was older, wiser than you despite his cockiness sometimes. There _had_ to be a reason for this. there had to be a reason for killing someone. He almost did it to the man who attacked you back in Viren's room. You knew he was easily capable of it, but even that man had been spared? There had to be a reason. Was this self defense? Was he protecting someone like he did you? There had to be a reason.

You cradled his hands close to your heart. "Aaravos, you're hurt."

His expression was twisted, something dark underneath the surface as rage poured off of him.

"I KILLED SOMEONE AND THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE CONCERNED ABOUT?!"

He had never yelled at you before. You couldn't stop yourself when he started to raise his hand.

_**“I said, no,” you stated firmly, pushing against his chest. “Leave me alone.”** _

**_The flicker of the firelight grew, and you yelped a little when he gripped your wrist, wincing at the harsh sensation. You told him to get away again, but your words were unheeded as hands began to travel on your body. You smelled alcohol pouring off of him. Hissing, you jutted out your foot, intending to get him away. Instead, you found the back of your skull hitting the stone floor with a crack. Your vision was blurring, and you sensed the wetness at the back of your head._ **

You knew he wouldn't hurt you, he swore it, but that didn't stop you from you crouching and covering your head. Aaravos wheezed, stepping away once more, glaring at his hands. Aaravos scared you, after all this time? He, he finally scared you.

He didn't even have to use magic against you, or threaten it. All it took, was for him to remind you of some of the people who had hurt you before.

Aaravos whimpered your name, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I'm sorry."

_**More than once you offered to help him break free, truly give him the world, but he looked pained when you did so, saying it required a price he wasn't willing to risk on you. You fought with him last time you saw him, your desperation becoming more evident. You insisted a few times, but all he said was, "Your life is short, and I want to spend it with you."** _

_**You did too, even if for only for a few seconds, but you doubted you'd ever get the chance.** _

He disappeared again, leaving you sitting on the ground in your garden, crying. You were so confused. You had so many questions. You wanted to understand best you could. Holding yourself, you felt your nails digging into your flesh. There was a wetness there, and you didn't know if it was because of your growing wounds, or your tears.

What was happening?

* * *

You hadn't meant to bump into his scrying mirror. It was like the one he used to communicate with you through. There were fond memories of such things. You couldn't stop looking when you saw what was on the other side though.

There was an army of monsters, with Viren at the front, and a worm like your's and Aaravos'. The little one on your shoulder, was a parallel you couldn't ignore.

_**Next thing you knew, there was a bug popping out of his mouth. You tried not to stare, you tried really, really hard not to. “Um, okay? That’s a thing?”** _

_**He grinned as he lowered it into the water on his side and it crawled out into yours. To your inner terror, and slight amazement, it crawled onto the table, making some kind of rattling noise in irritation since you had nervously taken so many steps back. Having a feeling of what it was supposed to do, you snickered, reaching out to pet it. Unlike some people, you could handle more than a few insects. It sadly made you the one to typically get a cup and take them outside, but hey, bugs were living creatures too. No need to treat them too badly.** _

The one on Viren's shoulders was a darker version, a larger one, and much more haunting. It terrified you. 

And next to Viren? It was Aaravos, looking at the army with a sadistic grin as they stood before a mountain.

_**There was your favorite smile.** _

A small army of what was clearly sunfire elves stood, shields up. General Amaya and Soren were among their ranks. Prince Ezran was riding a dragon, more with him, and Prince Callum was...Was he performing sky magic? You thought humans couldn't do that?! Monsters roared, and through Viren, Aaravos was performing magic. He was doing the kind of magic that hurt people. _He_ was hurting people, and enjoying it.

_**Your eyes widened, and you started to step back, away from the magic stuff. You'd always been scared of it.** _

The reflection changed after a while, and you saw a baby, a baby dragon trying to run from Viren and Aaravos. Aaravos, he was killing a baby? You clutched at your heart, feeling everything burning inside you.

No, this had to be wrong. He always had a reason. He didn't just kill for...But it was an innocent, a true innocent. What crime could an infant have done to warrant this?

_**“And if I’m the villain in every one of those stories, and they’re true,” he whispered. “What will you do then?”** _

_**You were already the villain in his story then, but you didn't dare say that. You were too selfish and afraid to. You were pathetic. “Pending on whether or not you’re still in here? If you're still here? I’ll keep on flicking the mirror to irritate the crap of you.”** _

You knew Aaravos wasn't truly a good person, but this? You tried to find a reason for everyone, everything else, but a baby? One that was a newborn from what he described? You were grateful when Viren and Aaravos were stopped by a moonshadow elf, but it didn't stop the searing pain. The mirror stopped projecting, and you felt yourself fall against the wall, fighting to breathe.

_**Your vision kept fading in and out, and with every flash of light, the darkness closed in more. Everything hurt, from your lungs, your head, your limbs…** _

_**Aaravos’ face came to mind during those dark moments. No, you had to hang on. You had to save him. You had to fight. So, with every excruciating breath, you hung on to the thought of him. To the dream of him breaking free. To the thought of the day, you could finally embrace him. To holding his hand. To that smile that made you smile back.** _

Gasping for air, you coughed, finding blood upon your palms. There was a blast of air, and you heard Aaravos call your name frantically. He carried you, laying you down somewhere soft as he rubbed your back, using spells in a commanding, angry tone. The little bug was chittering anxiously, pacing anywhere it could. When you could breathe, you couldn't stop crying. You didn't know from where it came from. Was it because of whatever was happening to you? From Aaravos' actions? A combination?

_**His smile was bittersweet, “You don’t know who I am-”** _

_**“You adore music, you used to watch the sun rise and set as often as you could even if you were about to collapse,” you said abruptly, startling him. But you were the one who made him speechless. “You’re as much a scholar as you are a dreamer despite your semi-cynical nature. Your books, from what little Elvish I know, aren’t just nonfiction, but tomes of stories written by those who came before, some of which are children’s stories. You like simplicity, but can enjoy the details in any form of art. You’ve studied all kinds of magic, in various forms, and you don’t use it all for your own benefit." Your smirk brightened. "And you're a totally melodramatic goofball. Shall I go on?”** _

Was this all the same person? Was this a dream? A nightmare?

What would he do if, when, he realized you saw what you did?

* * *

When you woke up, he was at your bedside, in a deep sleep. His fingers were intertwined with yours.

_**You glanced at his hand pressed against the glass, and raised your own, stopping just short of touching the surface. You looked to your companion, asking without saying a word. He nodded, and you placed your hand just over his. Both of you spread your fingers, and you examined the bright spotting that was dusting across his skin. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he was so fascinated by, considering that you were a dumbass human like everyone else, you let him anyway for curiosity’s sake.** _

You watched him, unsure what to do. Why did he go so far? Had he always been this way? How blind were you to what he was? You held no illusions as to what he may be capable of, but what he was willing to do was now fathomless.

_**You gasped, giggling at the sensation. Damn it, you were ticklish. It was completely still as you stroked one of its antennae, and you could’ve sworn that the markings on the elf’s cheeks sparkled just a little more. It crawled up your arm, just underneath your sleeve, and you made sure to be very, very still. You giggled uncontrollably as it trailed up your neck, clinging gently onto your ear.** _

_**“Hello,” you uttered. “Don’t you think it’s a little rude not to at least introduce yourself before trying to get underneath someone’s clothes?”** _

_**“…My apologies,” he said, clearing his throat, the shiny freckles on his cheeks becoming even shinier.** _

_**Oh, that voice was so not fair. He had been an asshole and bastard before. Now? Now you knew for sure this guy was trouble.** _

His near monstrous expression when it lead to the deaths of people horrified you. It was so different from the soft, kind person you knew.

_**He tensed, “You know me.”** _

_**“I knew** _ **of** _**you, but I don’t judge people on rumors,” you snorted, “Evidently, they’re quite unreliable. You're supposed to look a lot older, with much bigger cheekbones and black, soulless eyes, for example. I don't see any of that.”** _

That expression, those eyes? Had Viren done this to him? No, Viren was clever, but Aaravos wasn't easy to manipulate.

 _**The elf flicked the mirror right where your forehead was, sending a message without words.** _ **“That doesn’t make it much better. You still feel pain, don’t you?”**

_**You held your chin thoughtfully, “Never thought my words would be used against me like that before. Still, I’m getting it treated in the morning. I didn’t want to be later than I already was.”** _

How could someone who had done such horrible things, be so kind? And why would he have been kind to you if he was truly monstrous? Why would he save you when he had nothing to gain?

Were you just another puppet? Someone else to use? You, you had thought this, he, would be different somehow.

Caressing Aaravos' cheeks, brushing against his slightly wild mane, you did your best not to sob in anger, sorrow, or frustration. Instead, you tucked him in further, surprised he stayed asleep. You walked outside into your garden, inhaling deeply, taking it all in, trying to process everything.

**“ You win," you mouthed, smiling sadly. You hoped he wouldn’t learn the real reason you were doing what you did. “You got someone to care about you, whether you like it or not.”**

Was this really the same elf you fell in love with? Could you really go along with what he was doing after seeing that? This wasn't okay. None of it was. There had to be something you could do.

_**The bug, your elf, laughed, “Some of your actions, they confuse me.”** _

_**“Maybe that’s what makes me so interesting,” you joked. “Glad I keep you on your toes, oh great all-knowing one.”** _

_**“If I was all-knowing, then I wouldn’t be so thrown off by you,” he commented, your chat flowing more naturally, as it had before. “I feel as though you have an advantage over me.”** _

You had an advantage over him? He knew so much more about _you_ than you did _him_. He was so powerful, and you, you were so weak compared to him. You body even turned against you.

Arms came around you, and you felt the tears on your shoulders. "I'm sorry."

_**“And if I’m the villain in every one of those stories, and they’re true,” he whispered. “What will you do then?”** _

_**You were already the villain in his story then, but you didn't dare say that. You were too selfish and afraid to. You were pathetic. “Pending on whether or not you’re still in here? If you're still here? I’ll keep on flicking the mirror to irritate the crap of you.”** _

There was no mirror here, not anymore. The two of you could touch each other, something that you both had longed for. You could even hear his heartbeat.

He had spared you, but children? Babies? You wanted to understand, but as of right now...

He was starting to prove those stories true.

_**There was still a lot you didn't understand, a lot you needed to learn...** _

_**You closed your eyes to conceal your tears as you thought of your future, regardless of what actions he took, and began to sing with the chanting in the background. The hands that weren’t really there tightened ever so slightly, and in the back of your mind saw for a moment there were star-like freckles brightening, and golden eyes searching for yours. You looked up, finding the nighttime sky. Your heart's heaviness lifted. Was it because you were looking at something like him?** _

_**At the same time as the voice in your ear, you both murmured, “Beautiful.”** _

_**The music died down, leaving you alone in the dark once more, the warmth of an imaginary touch leaving you in the night air.** _

"Beloved?"

_**His smile made your heart flutter, the bastard. He was terrifying and wonderful all at once because of it. You wished he could stop making you feel this way.** _

_**"Because I would trade the world, just for another moment with you."** _

You were a human. You were one without any special gifts or abilities. You didn't wield magic. You didn't have physical prowess, or a position, or anything that should intrigue him. You were...

_**Kissing your forehead, he whispered, "I love you. I love how you put others before yourself, and how you try not to let others get hurt. I love how you care about even insects that few can. I love how your appearance is always changing. I love it when you honestly smile. I love your voice, and how you sing even though you believe everyone hates it. I love how you dance, when you're being graceful or having fun and being as wild or slow as you need to. I love how you laugh, and how you find ways to make me laugh. I love how you're full of contradictions, but you're always trying to be better, but I wish more than anything that you could look in the mirror, and see that you're the fairest one of all who I've ever known."** _

_**Damned charmer. He held your hand, apparently hearing that too. Grinning, he said, "Honest, not charming. I'd never lie."** _

His arms clung to you, as if he could keep you from drifting away.

"What are you sorry for?" you finally managed to croak out.

Carefully, afraid you'd try to run again, he turned you to face him.

 _**"You're here," you choked out, eyes watering. "Y-you're** _ **here** _**. I, I-"** _

_**He was holding your arms, pressing his forehead to yours. It felt soft, and cool, and light. It was a boon for your aching and burning skin. "Yes, we're here, and** _ **you're** _**here, alive."** _

"I, I frightened you. I said I never lie but, I scared you, and didn't realize I was hurting you until it was almost too late."

_**The two of you stilled near the end, one of his hands tightening around yours, afraid to let go.** _

He was afraid, afraid for you.

_**“You’re trembling, did you know that?” you murmured. “You’re afraid of something, possibly someone. I won’t pretend to know what’s on your mind, but, I trust you, with all that I am." You had even told him your real name, the full one. It was nice to hear from him and to see on his lips as he spoke it. It was both strange and familiar. It just felt, right. "I don’t expect you to do the same with me, but please know I’m not going to run away. I, I hope I’m not the one you’re afraid of.”** _

He was afraid _of_ you.

But he didn't apologize for what he did, only for how you had reacted. Did he regret it, even a little?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, clutching onto him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he hushed. Had all those soft expressions been for you? He had no reason to use you, to save you. Yet, it was so hard to believe he meant all the things he did and said were without some personal gain. "I should've known this would hurt you. You care so much-"

_**That’s when the elf took out a knife and started to cut himself.** _

_**Your eyes widened and you shook your hands, “Wait! Don’t hurt yourself! Whatever’s going on, it’s not worth harming yourself over!”** _

_**Even if he couldn’t understand your words, your worry seemed to convey something, and it was enough to surprise him as you stepped closer to the mirror, as if you could stop him from cutting himself. Your hand was outstretched, attempting to stop something out of your reach, fear not of him, but for him.** _

_**He met your frantically worried expression with his confused one.** _

_**“Please, don’t hurt yourself.” There was a pause, and his expression had softened, if only a little. This time, he only pricked his finger, showing that the wound healed more easily. You grimaced, making sure your lips were more easily readable. “That doesn’t make it much better. You still feel pain, don’t you?”** _

"Why?" Your gazes met, desperation and confusion in your voice. "Why did you kill them? Why did you try to hurt a newborn _baby_?"

He couldn't meet your eyes any longer. You saw a small amount of guilt in him. "Everything I do, I do to help and protect. I do it, for the greater good."

_**"Your life is short, and I want to spend it with you."** _

_**You did too, even if for only for a few seconds, but you doubted you'd ever get the chance.** _

_**He said it was unfair that you gave him the world, and you got little in return. He didn't know that he'd given you so much more.** _

"You could've used me," you whispered, hearing him hiss. You had been dying anyways. You could've made the perfect puppet. You would've been expendable, and you would've been okay with it. Instead, he decided to keep you. "I knew you could, but for some reason you didn't." He breathed you name in pain. "Sparing me wasn't for the greater good. And-"

_**“It was years later, when the babe had grown into a child, and the woman was with her, farming, that an elf appeared. Having taken a vow to take two lives from the man as the murderer had him, he killed the wife first, only to discover that both ribbons had fallen off after doing so.”** _

A baby, Aaravos was prepared to kill a baby. And for what?

_**The underlying meaning was clear. The woman had been pregnant, and the elf didn't know.** _

Was this all just an endless cycle? How much life had been lost because of a so-called 'greater good'? How different was Viren from the suppose ancestor that killed innocent elves? How different was Aaravos for doing the same?

_**“Before him was the child, trying to wake up her mother, too young to understand what death was. She asked for the elf to help, and instead, he placed a curse on her and her descendants, that all of the firstborns would suffer a terrible end, all in agony,” you said, missing a note on your tune.** _

Was it all to punish the descendants of those who hurt him before? To punish those who weren't involved?

He rasped your name, and you pushed him away.

"No."

_**You tensed, “Not everyone heeds ‘no’ so easily.”** _

_**The air grew heavy, and you could’ve sworn the elf bore an expression not just of anger, but something of empathy instead of sympathy. “** _ **I do, I would, and I listen.** _**”** _

From his reaction, you knew your anger was visible. It wasn't something you used often. You certainly didn't expect to use it with him. He pleaded your name, trembling as he fought with himself to try not to grab you, to hold you. You wouldn't let him. You didn't trust yourself around him. Despite everything he did, you didn't want to hurt him.

"Please," you whispered, your eyes prickling with salted water. It burned, so much. "I need some space, Aaravos. This, this is so much and...I don't know if I can forgive you, for any of it."

Aaravos flinched as if you slapped him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times but shutting it altogether. "I'm sorry."

He began repeating the phrase over and over again. You didn't reply, turning your back on him, and holding yourself as you wandered through the garden.

_**You smiled sadly. “Think of it as, a selfish wish I suppose.” It really was. You met his eyes evenly, “Human lives like mine are fairly short, so why not make the most of them? Like I said, I tend to forget the little things. There might even be a war coming soon, so…I want to live while I still can. I’m not a mage, or a warrior, or anything great in the slightest. I can’t make any great change, so why not experience parts of what little world there is left with someone else here with me? Certainly makes things less lonely, don’t you think?”** _

_**He grinned, “I look forward to it.”** _

It made no sense, covering your ears. It did nothing to block out your thoughts, the memories...

_**He was staring at you. “You, don’t care?”** _

_**You tilted your head, “I wouldn’t say that. I’m worried about how long you might have been in the mirror, for example, or how someone could possibly have put you in there, especially with what you know. They would’ve wanted you to be put in there, very badly. I am concerned a little about what you may or may not have done to warrant such a thing.”** _

Even back then you knew there were things that didn't make sense. So why did you let things get this far? Why didn't you question more? Why did you trust him so much? Why didn't you-?

_**Your dearest was holding something back, unsure. His hands were trembling. You could see them even though the glass keeping you apart. It was so different from the day you met, and how he spoke to you. You said honestly, “…I trust you.”** _

Everything hurt. You trusted him, but trust meant communication about what was happening. It meant understanding each other. It meant listening and caring about one another. It meant being partners, being equals. Aaravos did care for you, but he didn't listen or understand. He thought acting this way would help you? Would help both of you?

_**“I still don’t understand you for all of that. What could possibly go on in your mind?”** _

_**You sat on the edge of a rock, looking out at the endless sky. “I’m a human, I’m fairly selfish.”** _

_**“From what I’ve witnessed, I doubt that.”** _

Back then, he had trusted you, and keeping that secret? Knowing it might hurt him? Was his some form of comeuppance? Was he doing this on purpose? Did he want you to feel as he did? 

_**Conflicting emotions crossed over his features, from anger, to sorrow, relief, and grief. There were other emotions you couldn't recognize, but you wanted to, if he'd let you. However, you knew what the anger was for.** _

_**"Why?" you managed to croak, if barely. Thankfully, those sensitive ears picked up on your words, twitching in your direction. He was pained, but you couldn't help but ask it. "Why did you-? I-I hurt you. I hid..."** _

You hid the truth of what you were, and he was hiding the truth now, regardless of whether or not he lied.

Anger surged through you. You, wavering, walked over to one of the stone pillions, fists tightening before you punched one. If you had bothered, you'd be impressed by how the surface cracked. You would have been bothered by the loud noise your bones made, or how you were bleeding so much. You would've noticed how you screamed in rage and agony. Instead, you fell to your knees, feeling as though you were falling apart. It was hard to think anymore with so much that you were feeling.

_**"They were probably thinking, they wanted him to be part of their world, even if only for a moment?"** _

_**Holding you close, he asked, "And now?"** _

_**"Now, they've gotten someone that makes them happy, and hope the elf is happy too."** _

_**Kissing you, Aaravos whispered, "He is."** _

Did being with him mean letting him do this? To just let him do whatever he wanted? Even if it went against what you believed in? And what of the alternative? Would this mean you'd have to leave? Did this mean everything was over? Would he take away your choice because of the 'greater good'?

 _ **Holding onto him for a bit longer, you finally said, "Everyone I've ever known wanted something from me. Some were good people, like King Harrow, but I could never bring myself to fully trust him. And you, you're different, and that terrifies me. I don't know what to do with that, with you, but I know that I don't want to treat you as less than you are to me, to treat you as so many did to me."**_

Was that true though? Did he treat you as an equal? Or were you wrong for even wondering, doubting about such things? You should be able to trust him, right? After all you two had been through? Everything you'd done? He claimed he loved you for caring, for the traits you'd be going against if you let him do this. Did he want you to change for him? Did he even really love you if he wanted that? What were you to him anymore?

_**Hearing you grumble something unintelligible, he flicked part of his ear against your head as a slight punishment. Bastard. There was a long pause, "Please know that you never need to tell me what's in your mind, but I will also be here to listen whenever you need me, and not as a servant."** _

A voice called your name, and hands steadied the numbed knuckles. You tried to flee from Aaravos' grasp, not sure of how you would react to him. Everything was so confusing. Your breathing was growing worse.

_**Aaravos' eyes widened in worry, and he took your hands in his. He seemed to ignore you when you tried to apologize about spilling a couple drops of blood onto the pages. He was tentative when he kissed the insides of your wrists, just over your pulse, and then took your finger into his mouth.** _

_**Your cheeks felt as warm as the flames burning in the fireplace, and you did whatever you did when you were unsure about something. "U-Uh, that's n-not exactly s-sanitary?" He smiled at you as he let your hand go. Oh, it was healed...'Cause magic. Magic was the explanation for everything at this point. "Oh.**_ "

Your wounds vanished, and he let you go, albeit reluctantly. Your name drifted from his lips once more before he halted himself.

_**This time, his voice hadn't been teasing, but truly soft, and gentle. Carefully, he reached out his hand, and you took it in yours, drawing him closer. Pausing, with trembling hands, you held out your arms, and the two of you embraced. You needed something solid to help you stay where you were. This was Aaravos, who saved you from someone that touched you when you hadn't wanted to be. Aaravos who always asked you if it was okay to do things with you, even to the smallest of actions. Aaravos, who loved you, and you felt safe with.** _

His hand was outstretched to you now, begging for your touch.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. Just, please, _please_ listen." You looked up at him, trying to find the person you loved. "It won't excuse everything I've done, but, I don't want to lose you. I won't stop you if you want to leave, but I do ask you listen before you make a decision." He knelt before you, " _Please_."

_**“Forgive me for being so bold, but are you a ghost?” He shook his head at your question. “Then why are you leaving yourself in the past as if you were?”** _

This wasn't the past, but the present, and possibly the future. He had killed someone, and tried to kill more. He hurt people, and he _liked_ it. If the two of you had never met, he would've done the same to you, wouldn't he?

_**He said your name once more, pained. "There’s much I haven’t told you,” he murmured. “You don’t even know my name.”** _

_**“Okay then, you’re a startouch elf, which means you have, what, thousands of years to tell me about then?” you said. Alright, you couldn't help but feel a little jealous of that, but also saddened at the thought of his loneliness. Perhaps that was something the two of you shared.** _

Shutting your eyes, you gathered your strength. There was so much to learn, to understand, and worse, to be afraid of. But...

_**“For crying out loud, you bloody elves are supposed to live to be centuries’ old, some possibly thousands, and you’re still so damned foolish. What are you even doing this for anyway? What good is there in hurting yourself? Don’t you have someone who cares about you?”** _

_**He shook his head, and you tilted yours. "Maybe you should add someone then."** _

Your hand, shaking, stretched to his. You'd been willing to take a chance on him before, and you were willing to do it again.

Relief shone through Aaravos, even as you said, "Please, don't make me wake up, and regret having done what I have."

His fingers twitched, and you knew he wanted to touch you, to reassure you.

You wouldn't let him.

* * *

The two of you went home, and he told you his story, his goals, and as much as he could that you would understand. By the end of it, you were just tired. You weren't sure what to believe in anymore. You didn't know _who_ to believe in.

Aaravos asked your name, and you wordlessly tugged him to the shared bedroom, shoving him down as you lay beside him. He asked your name again, and you whimpered, "Please, just..."

_**There was no pushing, no expectations, no fear. Tentatively, you pressed into him, enjoying how he held you, how his hands were shaking, as though he wanted to wander, but wasn't because he wanted you to be safe, and you were. The kiss deepened into something unfamiliar, and he breathed you in, as though making a vow without words. Both of you pulled back, staring into one another's eyes. He stroked your cheeks, and you realized that you'd been crying.** _

Shuddering, you lay down next to him, curling up close. It was still confusing, and you wouldn't condone the things he's done, but you did know there was good in him. You knew that he was still someone you loved. You knew, he cared. He cared about you, and your thoughts, and your feelings. He cared about so much, and so much more than you.

You wanted to take a chance on him though, for him to take a chance on you. That meant seeing through each other's eyes, and try to meet halfway.

He tentatively tried to reach for you, pausing until you took his hand, and place it over the area where he could feel your pulse. He relaxed, inclining his fingers to feel your heartbeat even more.

There was so much the two of you needed to talk about. There was so much to work out. But, the fact that you both were willing to do it? 

_**"Are you all right?"** _

_**You weren't able to look him in the eyes. "I uh, you found one of my ticklish spots. Sorry."** _

_**Crap, that evil, delightful grin. "Oh?"** _

_**He did something really out of character then, he put his lips onto your neck, and blew. The result was something akin to the noise of someone passing gas. You couldn't help but laugh, leaning back into him again, feeling safe.** _

To listen and act and consider with regard's to the other's opinions? Their beliefs no matter how different?

_**There were days that the differences between the two of you made things confusing. But, in was in small times like this that you were reminded that it was your differences that tended to make you both stronger.** _

Aaravos said your name like it was a prayer, as though he were confessing to some kind of sin. Leaning into him, you just murmured, "Can we just, stay like this for a while? Is that okay?"

He nodded, the two of you drifting into sleep.

_**“And if I’m the villain in every one of those stories, and they’re true,” he whispered. “What will you do then?”** _

_**You were already the villain in his story then, but you didn't dare say that. You were too selfish and afraid to. You were pathetic. “Pending on whether or not you’re still in here? If you're still here? I’ll keep on flicking the mirror to irritate the crap of you.”**_

...

..

.

Closing your eyes, you smiled sadly, bitterly as you flicked his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be fluff and/or comedy, like Aaravos and the reader breaking the fourth wall to watch the episodes. Instead, it turned out to be angst and an existential crisis.
> 
> Seriously some of the stuff Aaravos did this season wasn't okay, and the way I've written the reader, they wouldn't just accept that kind of thing. It's not healthy, and morally, it's messed up.
> 
> What would you do in this kind of situation?


	3. The Magic of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has some questions about magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each chapter, unless stated otherwise, is its own entity.
> 
> This is not related to the previous chapter but is related to the rest of the series.
> 
> Remember, any of this can be canon to the story line, or not. It's a preference thing.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

You'd been watching Aaravos as he was practicing his magic. You were half tempted to tell him you were watching him flew his muscles while he practiced magic (he was a bit of a show off and you sometimes wondered if he was showing off to impress you), but you had other priorities, including many, many questions.

"Is the worm our baby?"

The elf fumbled over hearing your question, his freckles twinkling more than you had expected. "W-What?!"

You shrugged, still petting its antennae. It leaned into your touch, and you mentally noted that Aaravos tilted his own head slightly. So either this was his baby, or a piece of him? "I don't understand magic, remember? But this cute little guy came from you, and I thought maybe they were made from, er, our combined essences when we performed that spell to bring them outside the mirror realm."

"You think he's cute." Aaravos was grinning, and you arched a brow, unashamed of your statement. You tested the waters again, petting the bug and watching Aaravos' ears flicker as the antennae on your little friend did. "In some ways, you're right about them being my child. He is my avatar, a piece of myself that I can use to see and hear things. However, he also has his own intelligence."

Smirking, you pet the little guy again. "That makes sense. I can't imagine you ever waving your hands to get attention..." Your voice drifted, and you slowly realized that you might imagine it considering how silly the ancient elf was. Seriously, you caught him floating and practically bouncing off walls the other day. He hadn't even been embarrassed about it. At least he had fun. "Then again, maybe I can."v

Aaravos narrowed his eyes at you, until you lightly glared at him, "Wait a second, I know for a fact this cutie pie has seen some things. You _are_ a pervert!"

He made an offended noise as you teased him, still blushing profusely. "I did not!"

He never lied, so maybe you could trust him on that account? Frowning, you sighed, "So, Wormaavos isn't a kid?"

That was a little disappointing. Deep down, you couldn't deny that it got a little lonely around here, wherever you were. You knew he was trying to keep you safe, and you trusted him. You just wondered when he might let you be part of the rest of the world again. Even with how much he helped you, how much time was there left?

"...In some ways, he is." Aaravos sounded like he wanted to question your name choice. He moved to be next to you to observe your interactions. "Do you desire a child?"

What, he had a way to make one between a human and elf? You thought if there was a kid involved, that they might be adopted. Was that even physically possible for both, either of you? Shrugging, you decided not to make a big deal out of his question. "I suppose I'm a bit neutral. I don't actively want a child, but it is nice being able to take care of two adorable people instead of just one." His smile returned, softening as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Leaning against him, you were glad that it wasn't uncomfortable to talk about this kind of thing. "Do _you_ want one?"

"I fear I might place them in danger if they stumble across my magic," he murmured tensely, waiting for your reaction. "And, startouch children are difficult to have."

You decided not to ask too much. That portion he _was_ uncomfortable with. Instead, you teased, "I can easily imagine them being as energetic as a star. Holy cow, what would they be like on a sugar high?! I can barely handle you."

His face leaned between your neck and shoulder as he snickered. "You have no idea."

You leaned against him, snorting. Something occurred to you then.

"Hold on, Wormaavos is part of you, right? So does that mean if you had something bigger to pass through, like a pond or pool, _you_ could've gone through instead of the worm?"

Aaravos went very, very silent, groaning as he fought something inside. "Yes, and no? There is magic preventing _me_ from entering the other side, and even if it wasn't specified to me, there would be a great deal more sacrifice required on both sides." You turned to look at him for clarification. He frowned, "Blood is something that resonates, as it opens doors and abilities that someone cannot easily transfer. To create that spell, one needs the equivalent of blood or energy that the person is composed of in order to get across."

"So, you would've needed the blood equivalent of your body to get through," you murmured. In most cases, that meant one or more people had to die. "Instead of just a few drops to make this little guy."

You were petting Wormaavos again, thinking about the blood you and Aaravos shared to make it possible for him to be with you at all. Something occurred to you then. "Aaravos, does it take the same kind of sacrifice to put someone-?"

You thought about what it would sacrifice to put someone in the mirror realm. How much it would cost to place anyone in such a closed off place. It made your stomach queasy.

"That, would take a great deal of explaining."

"Is it dark magic?" you whispered, still in his arms. "Dark magic, as far as I understand, draws on other life. Did, did we perform dark magic? Did you use dark magic on me?"

Aaravos suddenly moved in front of you, cupping your cheek. "The dark magic you know is corrupt, untrained. What I did was [not](https://beautifulterriblequeen.tumblr.com/post/183452270450/aaravoss-7th-arcanum-and-the-concept-of-consent)."

There was always a price to magic. "How did you save me Aaravos? I was dying." He flinched when you said that. "What price did you pay?"

You were embraced, and he was trembling. He said your name hoarsely, "I did not take another life. I have not harmed anyone, because I know that is what you fear most."

Tentative, you hugged him back. He wasn't answering you. "Aaravos, what did I take from _you?_ "

You had a feeling about what he did. You weren't sure if you wanted the true answer to it, but you knew you needed it. Aaravos held you close, your hand over his heart. 

"...I took parts of myself over an extended time. I heal much more easily than you do."

Aaravos does not lie. He gave parts of his life to you? "That doesn't make it right. You were hurt, because of _me_. Why?"

He moved back to brush some of your tears away. He was smiling sadly, softly. "You have no idea what I went through, what it felt like, losing you. I was trapped for centuries, and instead of wanting to use me or pressure me into telling you anything, you gave me the world. You gave me _you_."

You, you weren't worth the world. Sensing you might protest, he pressed his lips to your forehead, and said your name with reverence. "You're worth the world." The world? All you did was show him some music and writing and talked. You told him stories most found nonsensical. How was any of that worth the world? He then added, "How could I not give you a world when you did that for me?"

Yes, he gave you a world, a world of life and happiness. You knew you weren't going to dissuade him of such notions, so instead you asked, "Please, don't hurt yourself again, not even for me."

He didn't say anything, only holding you close.

At least he wasn't going to promise something he couldn't keep.

* * *

It was morning, and you and Aaravos got up early to view the sunrise. He liked the view, and you did it more out of habit from when you lived in Katolis and wherever you traveled. It was a lot more pleasant when you watched with someone instead of being expected not to do anything with it. You sat back in his arms.

Sometimes he was the little spoon, and thoroughly enjoyed it, but more often than not he kept you closer to his front. You felt some guilt as to knowing why he might.

He kissed the back of your ear. For some reason, he'd been a lot more affectionate as of late. "What are you thinking of?"

"You," you answered cheerfully. "What are you thinking about?"

"The past, the present, the future," he admitted, nuzzling into you. Aaravos was brilliant in more ways than one, but you had quickly learned that being such a thing could be difficult. You wished you knew how to help him. "Do you miss your old life?"

That was odd. "...Yes and no." He waited for clarification. Humming a little, you answered, "There had been good people in my life, but I don't know if they would have missed me."

"Who were these people?"

Was he jealous? You wouldn't make fun of him for it. "King Harrow and his sons were good to me. I've told you how I became a servant, right?" He nodded. "Well, Prince Ezran was the one who persuaded his father to let me stay. The kid had quite the affinity for jelly tarts. It got him in trouble more than a few times."

Aaravos let out a small chuckle. "I can imagine."

How many people had Aaravos seen without interacting, or interacting as little as possible? Wait, you had considered the possibility of Viren being a voyeur, but despite all the times you teased Aaravos, did he-? "Then there was Prince Callum. He was an artist, and had a crush on a mage within the castle. She was a bit, mischievous, to say the least. She loved experimenting, and sometimes people got caught in it. Thankfully there was rarely any harm done. King Harrow loved his sons dearly, and he also loved his people."

Thinking deeply, you said, "I remember that he said that when he made decisions, he made them imagining that he should not have been born yet, that he would not know if he were rich or poor, what color his skin would be, what culture he was part of...I think he might've used that part of his decision making when it came to hiring me, and not just at his son's word."

"He was a good person."

You leaned back into Aaravos, moving on. "Soren, the brother of the female mage? He was kind of sweet for a little kid. Headstrong to be certain, but he was considerate. Or, at least he tried to be. He questioned a lot of things, and cared about people, even if he wasn't the best at expressing that."

"And Viren?"

You rolled your eyes, not suspicious as to how Aaravos at least knew of Viren. They shared a room for how long? At least a year? How much had Aaravos seen? Was the time where you were attacked really the first time he'd seen you? Oh no, how many embarrassing things had you done in front of him?! "I, Viren was..." You thought back to the nights he walked into walls and doors when he wasn't exactly awake. "He was an odd mage. He uh, overworked himself often, was a friend of the king, and-" You struggled, your discomfort obvious. "He used dark magic, a lot. He convinced King Harrow and others multiple times that it should be used, that there was usually no choice besides to us such power. I think he was dependent on it, maybe a little too much."

"An addiction?"

Wincing, you nodded. "I'm not against magic, and I try to tolerate dark magic, but, something always made me feel anxious around Viren in all honesty. He said he was doing things for the sake of humans, but more often I saw him doing things for himself. Who knows, maybe I'm misinterpreting his intentions. Maybe I couldn't understand everything that was going on."

Aaravos kissed the back of your hand, trying to soothe you. "From what I've witnessed, I don't believe you wrong in your assessment."

"Why ask me if you know that then?"

He smiled, "I like hearing you speak of things. Your ways of understanding the world are enlightening, and second opinions are always useful."

"I don't know if I'm the person you should get a second opinion from," you said slowly, trying to figure out what he might be thinking. "There's a lot I don't know."

"Exactly," he replied, frowning at your expression. "I only meant that you have a vastly different viewpoint from mine or most that I encounter. Your ways of describing things, or questioning them, reveal any that I should ask or consider. For instance, you claim not to understand magic, but you already understand the arcanum more than you realize, and you may hold a natural link to your surroundings.

"...Do you remember the first story you ever told me?" he asked. "The one of the child who danced in the storms?" When you nodded, he explained, "You recognize as everything being connected, that the world is a part of you as you are of it, and that there are things that are balanced. Where most use magic, they do not truly understand it or what it means to wield it. You? You are the opposite."

"You understand magic, and you wield it," you pointed out.

He grinned, "I understand it in ways you do not, and you understand it in ways I do not. Those different perspectives, are what makes things so much more beautiful." He leaned against you as you did him. "It is the difference between surviving and thriving, knowing something versus trying to make something of it." He hesitated, "You danced so many times during storms without me understanding why." When your cheeks flushed hotly, he just pressed his lips to the top of your head. "I didn't understand that side to you, until you explained it. If I hadn't bothered to listen, then everything would be more of facts instead of the parts that make things actually magical. You are living magic, even if few understand the meaning of that."

Living magic? Did he mean that in a literal sense or a metaphorical one? You considered his words. Magic, how was it really defined? It was energy that came from living beings, that came from traits of life. Some traits were stronger than others, maybe some had more meaning, but it was something in everyone and everything. It was also something that people gave by giving traits of themselves through everyday actions or rituals. It wasn't really just casting spells or incantations, was it. It was...You. It was everyone. They just couldn't see it.

Aaravos was humming, "Do you understand now?"

Magic wasn't just a physical thing, or something to manipulate. "I think I do. I'm still not sure how comfortable I would ever be using magic though."

"I'm somewhat glad for that," he confessed. "Those who use the traditional concept of magic, or even just those born with it, can become arrogant. Sunfire elves can believe that their rituals can truly purify people, deciding that certain forms of magic should not be used. Others believe that those not being able to use magic make those beings their lessers..."

His voice drifted, and you clasped his hand in yours. He had told you a few things about his past. "Some of the dragons."

"And elves." He inhaled, exhaling even more slowly. "Even I become arrogant at times."

"That can be said for anyone," you said. "I've done some arrogant things."

He arched a brow in expectation. "I punched someone, thinking I could get away with it." His expression became frozen as you continued. "I've spoken against powerful and influential authorities, often without knowing everything involved. I sneak around castles using hidden passageways. I-"

"Made friends with a magical entity when you knew how dangerous it was, likely believing you would get away with it?" he offered teasingly, more amused by what you said than anything else.

You frowned, unable to look him in the eye as you drew up your knees. "I was arrogant enough to think I could hide something arguably important from you, from a lot of people."

You had earned Aaravos' trust, and in some ways, betrayed him. You thought everything, in one way or another, would work out. You thought that maybe you could do something right, just once before something happened. You wanted to make someone, him, happy, arrogant int believing that you could at all-

"That's not arrogance," Aaravos interrupted. Apparently, you hadn't just been thinking that. You had said it out loud. "It's true, you didn't tell me what was happening to you, but true arrogance is believing yourself mightier or more important than those around you. If you were arrogant, you would think yourself as a higher being, as your way being the only way. You would use power without true consideration." He paused, "To be arrogant, means thinking you could change things, change people, to satisfy yourself. It means, make yourself out to be superior to others."

Was that the voice of experience, or the voice of someone who encountered such instances of people? Both? "But I did think I could change something. I thought I could make life easier. I thought, I could give you happiness that I didn't think I could ever have."

In some ways, maybe you still were. "Do you think yourself as better than others? Have you put yourself up higher, and hurt others in the process?"

"No? Not that I know of. But that doesn't mean-"

"Everyone is arrogant in some ways. It's part of our nature," he uttered. "As you said, 'that can be said for anyone'. What matters is when we let that arrogance decide our thoughts, our actions. And you? You didn't try to control me. You didn't try to change _me_. You wanted to make things better, even if you didn't have anything to gain from it."

You were about to protest, point out how you took him to places and events you had even said you wanted to spend time at. He shushed you. "You didn't want to gain anything from me, despite the fact we both knew I could save you."

"I didn't want to use you," you croaked, holding his hand to your cheek. "You're a person, not a tool."

His lips found yours, and you didn't push him away. Instead, you melted into his touch, and you felt him do the same for you. He said your name softly, as if in pain. "There was a time I wanted to use you, and then you changed everything."

"I, I think I figured that out a while ago," you snickered. "You were pretty insistent on having me cut my hand. It was pretty obvious you would want more than blood from me."

Oh, that came out so wrong. He winced, "See? Arrogance, believing I could easily control or manipulate you so well."

This time, you kissed him. "It's not arrogant to want someone to talk to. Or to think that someone could care for you, or to want to learn from them, or well, save them." Resting your forehead against his, you said, "I thought if I was going to die, I might as well do something good. I thought if I was going to die, then I at least wanted to see you free, be happy in ways I couldn't give you."

He inhaled sharply, understanding that you, as a stranger, had been willing to give your life for him. You hadn't been actively suicidal, just more accepting of dying than others. You'd been preparing all your life, after all Aaravos stared at you, agony pouring off of him. He said your name hoarsely, pleading, "Please, don't do that again. I'm not sure if I could take it. I, I can't lose you, not again."

In other words, he didn't want you to hurt yourself, actively or not, for his sake.

"I'll try," you murmured.

You wouldn't make a promise you were unsure you could keep.

* * *

It was raining outside, but unfortunately you felt a little more tired than usual. Aaravos had insisted you relax, though he knew your urge to get up and move to your heart's content. 

He gave you something for such times as this. It was a wooden instrument with various strings. You'd been learning notes, but at most times you just experimented much to Aaravos' amusement. You were terrible at trying to figure out the notes themselves, but it seemed you were good at learning the chords and knowing how something should sound pleasant. He knew the theory, and you knew how to convey messages without such things.

As you strummed, memories arose in you. Aaravos sat across the way, having been reading a book you were fairly sure he had read thousands of times by now. It was always his favorite though, and being cooped up like this could be maddening if you didn't have some space every once in a while. Doing it continuously would be overwhelming, especially to those who either didn't, or hadn't interacted with people as much as some people might believe they should.

Thinking carefully, you closed your eyes, listening to the storm, and how your fingers brushed over the strings. Even without looking, you knew Aaravos was watching you in that moment as you began to whistle along with the tune you were playing. It was the song from the first story you gave him.

"Water, earth, fire, air," you began. There was the dirt as it was kicked up from the ground by horses. There was the campfire, a breeze, a pond where you could see the reflection of a younger you. "Your song is there. Your song is here. Dark, light, life, death...Your song is there, inside here. This is where I'll find you, this is where you find me, wherever we go."

Aaravos stood up, moving closer. Your eyes were still closed, but you saw the first time you met. You saw the times you read to him and told him stories. "Sky, sun, sea,and star...That's where we'll be, no matter the distance, no matter how far. You're in my heart, my mind, my soul. Memories make me whole. Your song is there. Your song is here. Your song is there, inside here. I'll find you, this is where you find me, wherever we go."

You still thought you couldn't sing, and frankly this was an old song. It must've sounded strange, but Aaravos didn't seem to mind. Even you weren't sure what kind of song it was supposed to be. It used to be one of mourning, of reassuring yourself that everything would be all right. Now? Now it was so much more.

"Water, earth, fire, and air," you sang softly, "Sky, sun, sea, and star, you're here, you're there, you're far, you're near...Through any storm, through any weather, I'll stand by you, no matter how far apart or together. You're in my heart, my mind, my soul. Memories make me whole. It's all in you, it's all in me. Your song is there. Your song is here. Your song is there, inside here. I'll find you, this is where you find me, wherever we go."

You found the song that was once sorrow and bittersweet, was becoming so much happier. Its meaning was changing completely. You opened your eyes, seeing his stars, his eyes, his smile. "May the rain pour, may the sun shine, may the world grow cold, but you will find me. I will find you. Through any storm, through any weather, may we falter, may we fall, but we'll be together. Your song is there, your song is here...Our song is here."

The two of you listened to the rain as it fell, the smell of the ocean wafting through the breeze. His stars stood out in the darkness, illuminating everything.He cupped your cheek, and kissed you tenderly, "I love you."

You returned it. "I love you."

The two of you laughed as he led you to a dance, the melody of the rain, the memories of him and you.

You didn't know what the future would bring, but you hoped that neither of you would miss anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And angst still managed to sneak in. Sorry about that.
> 
> Also, I'm bad at songwriting, so this is the closest thing I imagined.
> 
> Feel free to imagine/write something else
> 
> PS You could probably recognize where I got some of the lyrics from *cough cough*: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1EnW4kn1kg

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT
> 
> 12/11/2019 - Hey everybody, a group and I had a research project for a few classes that involves a survey. We needed a larger sample size. I'm happy to say that we got more than enough responses for the project and I just wanted to thank everyone for helping out.
> 
> If you want to check out the results, here's the link: https://www.surveymonkey.com/results/SM-5ZFXQ8JS7/
> 
> Thank you!


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